


Tarn & A Cappella

by GreyLiliy



Series: A Cappella [3]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Children of Characters, Family, Gen, Humor, Parent-Child Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-29
Updated: 2013-10-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:21:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22822453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyLiliy/pseuds/GreyLiliy
Summary: The tiny scraplet fit neatly in Tarn’s palm.
Relationships: Pharma/Tarn
Series: A Cappella [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1640695
Kudos: 12





	Tarn & A Cappella

**Author's Note:**

> [First posted to Tumblr on October 29, 2013 as “Drabble #88 - Tarn & A Cappella.” Crossposted to Archive of Our Own on February 20, 2020. Only the work itself has been posted.]

The tiny scraplet fit neatly in Tarn’s palm. It chirped, powder-blue optics wide and mouth slightly agape as he looked up at his new parent. The babe bore Pharma’s coloring, but the gun turret on his back and shoulder treads were the spitting image of Tarn’s.

A Cappella. Tarn’s offspring. Wearing a ghastly Autobot Brand in the center of his chest.

Tarn still had trouble wrapping his processor around what had just occurred. Pharma had arrived a few hours ago unannounced in a foul mood, carrying a sparkling of all things. Before Tarn could question the doctor, he unceremoniously dumped the tiny creature in Tarn’s palm and huffed.

“I was going to keep this from you,” Pharma said, after a brief introduction of the babe’s designation and origin. “A whole year’s worth of hiding him wasted because I have a medical conference. I can’t show him to the nurse or the ward manager or they’ll know I’m meeting with you, and there’s no way I can hide him in a suitcase for a week. So, congratulations. You’re babysitting.”

“Pharma, what is–”

“He better be alive when I get back,” Pharma interrupted, a snarl in his voice that sounded more irritated than a threat. “Now, I’m leaving before I change my mind.”

The jet had swiftly turned on his heels and stomped right back out of the room. The sounds of jet turbines ignited, Pharma escaping before anything else could be said. After a second and hope that it was a bluff, Tarn knew he was alone with the child. It took another few minutes of staring at the empty space Pharma had been standing, and the sparkling crying out before the situation sunk in. Tarn also then noticed the pack of children’s toys and supplies left near his feet.

Tarn wanted to be furious. Pharma had at some point given birth to a protoform using half of Tarn’s CNA, and had kept it from him. How dare he!? Tarn had half a mind to rip Pharma’s wings off and shackle him in a corner for a week. The other half, realized that he was going to be late for an execution and had no idea what to do with the tiny irritated thing pouting at him from his palms from being ignored.

“I suppose, I’ll have to take you with me,” Tarn said. He rubbed under the babe’s chin with his thumb and reached for the bag on the floor. Until he figured this out, he might as well keep the little one safe.

* * *

“Yes, there is a sparkling on my shoulder,” Tarn sighed, holding his hand up to keep the child from crawling off the edge of his treads. “Pay attention to your list of charges. Kaon’s only going to read them once, and you have the right to know why you’re here and suffering.”

Their execution of the day blinked away from staring at A Cappella and went back to whimpering as Kaon continued to read his offenses. He knew sparklings were rare in this day and age, but to distract someone to the point they forgot they were with the DJD? Ridiculous.

And the target wasn’t the only one distracted.

Vos was downright fixated with the little mech. Whether it was in interest or disgust, Tarn had yet to pin-down. His face-plate wasn’t giving it away, and his mouth was zipped on the subject. But that didn’t stop him from staring and occasionally reaching out his hand to touch the mech, only to pull it back before the fingertips made contact. The tilt of his helm followed him wherever the tiny creature crawled, even when he shifted from the top of Tarn’s tread to the crook of his arm.

Tesarus and Helex were more obvious with their confusion. Tarn hadn’t answered their inquiries, but they at least asked why he had a sparkling when he showed up. They spent the rest of the time making faces that gave away their attempts to justify why he had it.

Kaon, on the other hand, violently ignored the child. As far as he was behaving, the sparkling didn’t exist.

On the bright side, Tarn had to admit, his and Pharma’s offspring was well behaved. He chirped every once in a while, but on the whole, nothing phased the little scraplet. He sat quietly, little hands holding tight to the six-phaser’s armor. Tarn noticed his attention flitted from one thing to the next, taking everything in, but not a peep of discomfort came from him–even while their execution target was screaming.

Tarn wasn’t sure if he should be impressed or worried.

Was he unaffected by the violence because he was born of Tarn and Pharma, or was he just too small to understand what was going on? Mysteries of the young, Tarn supposed. But it was the preferable of other options, all considered. And as the punishments began in more earnest, the little sparkling was well behaved. He watched occasionally, scrunching his little face-plates as the victim writhed and screamed, but was distracted easily enough by something else.

Until it was Tesarus’ turn.

The screech of metal from the traitor’s arm hitting the spinning fan blades was not appreciated by the tiny creature nesting in the elbow of Tarn’s arm.

A Cappella’s cry was a screaming wail that cut through everything. It was a shot to the spark of everyone around the babe–literally.

Tarn groped for the front of his chest with the same desperation that the tiny sparkling had thrown his hands over his helm. Kaon, and Vos were both on their knees. Helex had folded over, leaning against a wall for support. He cursed horrifically through it all. The sobbing victim curled in on himself, cradling the sparking remains of his arm where he had been dropped by a startled Tesarus.

A Cappella made agonizing little sobs, each noise a painful pulse to Tarn’s spark. The six-phaser’s optics were open wide behind his face-plate. The child had his voice. He grunted, holding his hand over his aching spark again. A Cappella had his voice.

But no idea how to control it.

“Shhh, shh,” Tarn cooed. He forced comfort through every sound wave coming from his vocalizer. He had to quiet the babe before he killed someone he shouldn’t. The spark could only take so much abuse before it flickered out. And A Cappella wasn’t the only one who knew this trick. “It’s alright, little one. Tesarus stopped his nasty fan. Everything is fine now. No more noise, just my voice. Shhh, now. You’re okay, you’re okay. Quiet now.”

Concentrating on Tarn’s voice worked, and the little one’s desperate sobs soothed into tiny hiccups. He dropped his exhausted little helm onto Tarn’s chest and wheezed as he cycled air heavily. The rest of his team quieted as well, staring at the little thing as they rubbed at their aching chest-plates.

The traitor’s sobs cut through the silence, and A Cappella whimpered.

“It seems you’ve been blessed by Primus,” Tarn muttered. He removed a small rifle from his subspace and shot the traitor twice, once through the chest and once through the helm in quick succession. He ignored each flinch of the sparkling in his arms in time with the blasts. “Granted a quick death. Regrettable.”

The child stilled, and slowly turned his head away from Tarn’s chest. He squirmed in the giant purple hand, and wiggled until he could look over the edge. He focused on the dead thing at Tarn’s feet, optics wide and mouth open. He tilted his head and chirped. The sparkling tugged at Tarn’s fingers, and reached out toward the dead mech.

Tarn sighed and set the little one on the ground. A Cappella crawled his way over to the executed, and pulled on loose pieces of metal until he rested up on the dead mech’s chest plate. A Cappella pulled at a wire sticking out from the frame to leverage himself over the gap, and proceeded to giggle as he dug around in the mech’s insides.

“Well,” Tesarus said, scratching at the side of his fan trim. “If we had any doubt about Pharma lying you were that thing’s dad, we don’t now.”

“Don’t call it a ‘thing,’” Tarn chuckled. The execution was ruined, but it was hard to be disappointed with little A Cappella gleefully playing with energon soaked parts. “That’s my child.”


End file.
